


My Name Is Fox Mulder

by DaynaFoxe



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaynaFoxe/pseuds/DaynaFoxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is everything Mulder has ever believed all a delusion? You decide for yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name Is Fox Mulder

_“No! Samantha!”_

_He struggled to move his limbs, to go to her, but he couldn’t. His body was no longer his own, no longer in his control. He could hear his little sister screaming, hysterical, terrified, begging and pleading someone to stop, to let her go. The shrieks continued, but growing fainter as though she were moving further and further away. She screamed for her brother._

_“No, stop it! Stop! Let me GO! Fox! FOX!”_

_He kept struggling to move, to go to her, even as her voice faded out and his world was swept into blackness…_

     Fox Mulder woke with a start, panting, dripping sweat. His cheeks were wet with tears. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. He had awoken in tears several nights a week since he was twelve. Since his eight year old sister Samantha disappeared without a trace one night under extremely mysterious circumstances.

     There was something different tonight though as Mulder sat up. He wasn’t at home on his couch, where he slept every night. He wasn’t even at home in his bed, and that would be strange enough. He stood and walked in a slow circle, looking around at his surroundings.

     A buzzing light in the ceiling cast a pale, sickly light over everything. The walls were bare, and padded. The bed was a hospital stretcher. There was only one door into the room. It was obvious immediately that he was in a hospital of some sort, and from the padding of the walls, it was an asylum.

     Mulder began too pound on the door, but it made little noise, and he began to scream as well.

     “Hey! Hey, is someone out there! Hey! There’s been a mistake or something, someone has to let me out of here!”

     As he pounded on the door and yelled, he realized he was wearing a hospital gown. How could he have gotten here, been undressed and redressed, and not know a thing?

     Mulder stepped back from the door, went and sat on the bed. Tried to come up with the last thing he could remember doing. He could vaguely remember being at work at the bureau, not on field work, but working with Scully in the basement of the Hoover building. He remembered getting home, sort of… Everything felt off, fuzzy. He couldn’t quite concentrate on his memories.

     “I must have been drugged.” Mulder muttered to himself, head down, rubbing his temples. “But how? By who? And why?” It wasn’t like he and Scully had stumbled across anything particularly dangerous or forbidden lately. So why would someone come after them now?

     As Mulder sat on the bed, musing, the doorknob rattled. Mulder stood to meet whomever was coming in.

     A young man who looked to be in his late twenties came in the room. He smiled at Mulder. “Hey there Buddy! You’re awake finally! The Doc’ll be happy to hear that.”

He approached Mulder easily, confident but still being cautious. The way an experienced Zoo Keeper might approach a dangerous predator that he was well acquainted with but didn’t quite trust. Mulder surveyed him with equal distrust.

     “Finally? How long have I been here? There’s been a mistake, a mix-up, something. Where are we even at?” Mulder asked, and the orderly’s smile faded.

     “I think maybe you should get the Doctor to answer those questions for you Mr. Spender.” He told Mulder in a reassuring tone.

     “Mr. Spender? There’s your problem right there, my name is Mulder, not Spender.” Mulder insisted, frowning.

     The young man began to back up towards the door slowly. “Mr. Spender, I’m just going to go get the Doctor for you, I think you might just be having a reaction to your new medication.”

     “What medication?” Mulder asked, his voice rising indignantly. “What did you give me? And I told you, my name is Mulder!”

     The young man slipped out of the room quickly without another word, leaving behind a frustrated Mulder. He returned a few moments later with two other orderlies, these ones muscular and hulking, and a man in a white lab coat who appeared to be the Doctor. Mulder recognized him immediately.

     “Skinner!” he said, and he believed he’d never been happier to see the old skinman in his entire life. “Tell these people they’re confused, they have the wrong person. They keep calling me Spender.”

     Skinner looked at Mulder pityingly. “Sedate him. I’ll notify his family that the new antipsychotics are not having the desired effect.”

     Mulder stared after Skinner. What the hell was going on, Skinner had been on their side almost since the very beginning, maybe from the beginning in fact.

     “Skinner! Skinner, wait! You know me! YOU KNOW ME!” Mulder called after the Doctor as the man left the room. The two larger orderlies restrained him while the first man gave him an injection of some sort.

     “There we go buddy. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling better soon.” He told Mulder gently, strapping him down to the gurney as the sedatives took effect and he slipped into a semi-conscious state.

 

     Mulder awoke with a start some time later. He was still strapped into restraints on the bed. He tried to tug his arms free, but no luck.

     “Fox, you’re awake! How do you feel?”

     Mulder craned his head around as best he could, but couldn’t find the source of the voice. It was familiar.

     “Who’s there?” he called, and he felt ashamed of the fear in his voice. Than the man stepped to where he could see him, and most of the fear turned to fury.

     “You!” Mulder yelled hoarsely. “I should’ve guessed.” Mulder glowered at him. “You’re not going to get away with this. I don’t know what you’ve done to Skinner, but Scully will figure this out.”

     The man looked utterly perplexed. He sat down in a chair next to Mulder’s bed.

     “Fox… Do you remember anything? Anything at all? What’s your full name?” he asked him. “What is MY name? Who am I?”

     Mulder stared at him. “What? Don’t you understand that whatever you’re trying to do here it didn’t work? I know who I am, you know who I am. Don’t try to play your mind games with me, you cigarette smoking bastard.”

     The man continued to stare at him in shock. “Cigarette smoking bastard…? Fox, I haven’t touched a cigarette in over fifteen years!”

     Mulder snorted derisively. “Fifteen years? Who do you think you’re trying to lie to here? I saw you chain smoking those damn Morleys in Kersh’s office less than a month ago!”

     The man’s jaw dropped open. “Kersh’s office? Doctor Kersh? God, Fox, Doctor Kersh retired almost five years ago now!” He sat back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “What the hell did that medicine do to you Fox?” he murmured. He leaned forward, trying again. “Fox, do you know what my full name is?”

     “Dr. Kersh? Stop trying to play games with me, you know who I’m talking about. A.D. Kersh. And I don’t know your full name. No one does, the closest we came to finding out was C.G.B. Spender.”

     To Mulder’s utter shock, the man smiled and chuckled. “That’s what you remember, Fox? The way I used to sign my checks? C.G.B. Spender? It stands for Christopher George Bradley Spender, Fox. Do you remember your name?”

     “Like that’s the truth.” Mulder scoffed. “And of course I remember my name. It’s Fox William Mulder.”

     Chris Spender frowned. “Mulder? Fox, the Mulders were our neighbors, family friends, when you were a little boy in Martha’s Vineyard. They were your Godparents. Your name is Fox William Spender. You’re middle name is after Bill Mulder, yes, but you’re a Spender.”

     “You’re a liar.” Mulder told him coldly. “And what did you do to Skinner? You and your goons brainwash him, or has he been a double agent all along?”

     “Doctor Skinner?” Chris Spender asked. “What do you mean, Fox? What’s wrong with Doctor Skinner?”

     “He’s not a Doctor, damnit! I’m talking about Assistant Director Skinner. You have him set up here as a puppet Doctor!”

     Chris Spender’s eyes widened. “Assistant Director? Are you still on that FBI kick Fox? We go over this every time I visit!” He shook his head in mild frustration. “I should have known when you mentioned Scully earlier.”

     “What are you talking about? And what do you know about Scully? I swear, if you did ANYTHING to her, I will kill you with my bare hands you bastard!”

     Chris frowned. “I didn’t do anything to her Fox. And you need to forget all of this FBI nonsense. You are not in the FBI, you don’t know anybody who works, or has ever worked, for the FBI.”

     “My name is Fox William Mulder. I work for the FBI in the X-Files Department, solving unexplained Phenomena. My partner is Dana Katherine Scul-“ Mulder rattled off quickly before the man interrupted him.

     “You’re an FBI Agent, working on the ‘X-Files’, and you’re partner is Dana Scully? Fox, an X-Files department doesn’t even exist at the FBI! ‘Unexplained Phenomena’ wouldn’t even be a part of the FBI’s interest or jurisdiction!”

     “Lies! All lies! I know who I am, I know what my life’s work is! You’ve been trying to stop me at every step, trying to close down the X-Files! It isn’t going to work Spender, you can’t beat us down!”

     “You know what Fox, enough is enough. You want me to show you this little FBI thing is all a delusion? Fine.” Chris Spender walked out of the room. He returned a few moments later with an Orderly and a straight jacket.

     “We’re going to take a little trip, Fox, we’re going to go visit someone.” He told him as the orderly stepped towards Mulder with the jacket.

     “Wait a minute… Krycek?” Mulder asked, staring at the kid coming towards him hard.

     The young orderly looked up at him, surprised. “Hey, yeah! That’s me alright, Alex Krycek.” The young man beamed at Mulder, than at Chris Spender, and then back at Mulder. “You remember me, eh Mr. Spender?” he said to him, grinning, as he closed the last clasp on the straight jacket.

     “Oh, I remember you alright, you little weasel. Sabotaging my work, trying to frame me for murder. I’m not surprised you’re here. And you know damn well my name is Mulder, Krycek. My name is not Spender!”

     The kid’s face fell, and backed away from Mulder. He glanced over at Chris Spender. “Uh, Mr. Spender…?”

     Chris waved him away. “It’s nothing, Alex, just a bad reaction to his new medication. Thank you for your help, I’ll let you know if we need any more assistance.” Krycek nodded and left the room. “Come along, Fox. There’s no reason to postpone this little meeting.”

     Mulder looked at him suspiciously. “Who do you want me to see so badly, _Chris?_ ” he asked, trying to rattle the man.

     The man looked visibly pained. “I think I preferred ‘Cigarette Smoking Bastard’ to hearing my son call me by my first name.”

     “Too bad I’m not your son.” Mulder answered cruelly. “I don’t care what my Mother and you did, I don’t care whose blood I have, my Father is Bill Mulder.”

     Chris Spender didn’t answer, he just sighed and walked with his hand on Mulder’s arm down the hallway. Maniacal laughter floated out of some rooms, and out of other rooms there were the sounds of screams and whimpers and crying. The door they came to stop in front of was eerily silent.

     “There, Fox. Look inside there, tell me who you see.” He said, stepping back away from the door so Mulder could see through the window. When Mulder looked his insides froze.

     The woman in the room sat on the floor, wearing a straight jacket. She stared across the room unblinking, apparently unseeing. She was painfully thin, and the skin hung loosely on her face. Her hair was thinned and dull, and even her eyes had no spark in them. There was no intelligence, no presence, in her face.

     Mulder stared in horror, taking in the situation. He turned to Chris Spender and bellowed “What did you do to her?”

     “Who is it Fox? Tell me who that woman in there is.” he told Mulder. “I want to hear it from you. Who is she?”

     “Stop playing games with me! You know who she is! What did you do to Scully?”

     “Yes, Fox. Her name is Dana Scully.” Chris Spender said softly, a little sadly. “But I didn’t do anything to her. She’s been here since she was 19 years old.”

     Mulder glowered at the older man. “How can you expect me to believe you? Scully is brilliant, a Medical Doctor, she’s worked for the FBI since she was 24! Tell me what you had done to her!”

     “She’s a junkie, Fox! She started doing drugs when she was 12, and when she was 19 she burned her parent’s home down on Christmas Eve, killing her Father, her sister Melissa, and her baby nephew, William! She was high on LSD, Speed, and Ecstasy! She has been in a state of psychosis for 15 years! She never worked for the FBI, never went to medical school, never even had any such aspirations in her life! You made her all up, in your head! Don’t you understand Fox? Dana Scully is a real person, but the Special Agent Scully you have in your head is nothing but one of your delusions!”

     Mulder stared for a moment. “You lying bastard. You think you can just get me to believe all your lying bullshit just because you say it? I know Scully. Her Father died on Christmas Day 1993, he had a heart attack. Her sister Melissa was killed a few years later, mistaken for Scully. You had your people trying to kill her. And her nephew William… Bill Scully, her brother, his son is just fine! Her nephew never died! And so is Scully and my son, she gave him up for adoption to keep him away from people like you!” Mulder snarled at the cigarette man.

     The man continued to look at him with an overall sense of pity. He shook his head. “Your psychosis is getting deeper, Fox. You never mentioned a son with Scully any other time.”

     “There has never been another time! Stop trying to screw with my head, it isn’t working!” Fox screamed at him. “I’m tired of this charade, let me out of here!”

     Chris Spender gently steered him back towards his own room. “Come on, Fox, why don’t we go back to your room for now, talk a little more.”

     Fox tried to pull away from him. “I don’t have anything else to talk to you about. I’m getting me and Scully out of here, and I swear if it’s the last thing I do I’m going to make you pay!” Mulder snarled as he was led back in to the small padded cell. Mulder sat heavily on the bed and waited to see what the cancer man was up to now.

     Chris pulled some papers out of his bag. “Here, Fox, let me show you these, since they tend to always be a part of your delusion. Which isn’t surprising, you were all close after all and it was so tragic.”

     Mulder looked at the picture that was held up for him. It was The Lone Gunmen, apparently when they were teenagers. Melvin Frohike, short, thick glasses, dark hair that was already beginning to thin and fall out, was to the left. In the middle was Richard Langley, tall and gangly with long tangled blonde hair and thick black glasses falling down his nose. John Fitzgerald Byers was on the right. He looked like the All-American boy with his clean and neat clothing, carefully brushed hair, and overall clean-cut appearance. Mulder was amused to see he was still clean-shaven in this picture. He felt a pang as he thought of the sacrifice they had made, dying to keep a deadly pathogen from escaping into the public. Dying to save their friends as well. He glanced up at Chris Spender. “It’s The Lone Gunmen. Frohike, Langley, and Byers. What about them?”

     “Yes, that is who they are. How did they die, Fox? Do you remember?”

     Mulder glared. “They died keeping a deadly pathogen contained, but I suppose you have some other explanation now?” he snorted facetiously.

     “They were all brought here for a new program designed to help teenagers aged 14 to 18 with severe Paranoia and Anxiety issues. Yves Harlow, Suzanne Modeski, and Jimmy Bond were also in the group. Along with you.” He waited a moment for Mulder’s reaction.

     “Paranoia, of course. What else would Conspiracy Theorists be labled as, if not paranoid? None of them had any ‘Paranoia’ or ‘Anxiety’ issues, they just tried to tell the world the truth!”

     Chris Spender ignored him. “Everything went well, or seemed to go well, with the group for several months. You were all making improvements. Making relationships with one another. Until everyone came to group meeting one day, and Mel Frohike, Rich Langley, and John Byers were all found hanging in the conference room. They all left behind very confused suicide notes.”

Spender paused and wiped his eyes. “It was such a _shame_. Mel was the oldest, and he was still a few months away from being 18. Johnny was 16, and Rich had just turned 14 a few weeks before the program started, he barely got into it.” Spender shook his head and looked up at Fox. “I really think you were getting better before that happened. Doctor Xavier ran the group, and he’s one of the few Doctors here you’ve ever trusted or liked. They asked him to resign after that, and I think that loss was very hard on you, as well as losing the boys. You and Doctor X got along very well.”

     Mulder stared at the man. “Do you really expect me to believe that? I was in my late twenties when I met The Lone Gunmen! And how dare you try to change their heroic deaths into some insanity inspired suicide!”

     Chris Spender held another photograph up for Mulder. This one was a group shot of the Paranoia and Anxiety group, along with Dr. Xavier. “Explain this then, Fox.”

     Mulder stared at his 18 year old self in the picture, smiling next to Langley and Byers in the old photograph. Frohike stood on the other side of Langley. Yves and Suzanne were sitting in front the boys, and Jimmy Bond stood next to Doctor X. Mulder recognized the black man in the white coat immediately, despite the friendly smile on his face and the fact he was wearing glasses. It was his old informant, X, who had been shot dead in Mulder’s hallway. Below the photograph were the names, ages, and conditions of the patients. Yves was 14, but looked 10, and had Anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Suzanne & Jimmy were both 15, but Jimmy looked about 12, and they both suffered from borderline psychosis brought on by severe Paranoia. Mulder saw that John Byers had an Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder as well as Paranoia. He himself was named as 18 year old Fox Spender, who suffered from Paranoia, Delusions, Hallucinations, and Schizophrenia.

     Mulder looked up at the cancer man. “Like you haven’t faked pictures before?” he said mildly. “You went out of your way to make me seem like a real head case. If this were real, I’d have never been put in with these other kids.”

     Chris Spender nodded wearily. “You were thought the most severe case, and it was difficult to get you in, especially since you were the oldest, at 18. But Doctor Xavier and you had a real connection, like I told you. He pulled some strings and had you placed into the group.”

     Mulder rolled his eyes and glared. “Well, go on. What’s the next part of your story?” he asked when Chris Spender didn’t immediately speak.

     “After the group was disbanded and Doctor X left, you were placed in group therapy with other 18 to 22 year olds under Dr. Deepak Thureau. However, you seemed to sink further into depression and self-isolation. Your delusions worsened, and you suffered a full separation from reality.”

Chris paused, blushing slightly. “After you began referring to the Doctor as ‘Deep Throat’, he requested you be removed from the group, and you were reassigned to Doctor Walter Skinner. It was Dr. Skinner who finally found something that seemed to work. On his medication and therapy regime you seemed to be recovering. When you were 26 we were able to enter you in a sort of Big Brother/Big Sister program offered here. You were paired with a 9 year old boy named Gibson Praise who was suffering severe seizures in the temporal lobe region of his brain.”

     Mulder broke in at that point. “Gibson wasn’t suffering from anything! He was a damn prodigy! The key to everything in the X-Files department, until you bastards tinkered around in his head!”

     Chris held a picture up of Mulder in his mid 20’s with a little boy, who was clearly Gibson Praise, without a word. He then continued his story. “Gibson was released several months later, his seizures controlled with medication. You again suffered a downward spiral after essentially losing someone close to you. It was then that Dr. Skinner made the connection with your original diagnosis, but by then it was too late. When Gibson returned several years later to undergo surgery for his temporal lobe epilepsy, Dr. Skinner felt seeing him again might benefit you, but it had no effect. You simply incorporated him further into your fantasies.” Chris Spender paused. “There was no improvement at all after that. You remained nearly catatonic for a long time. In fact, this is the most lucid you have been in almost 10 years.”

     Mulder stared at him, incredulous. “Do you know what I have been through over the last 10 years? All of the cases I’ve solved? I had a son within the last 10 years! And you’re trying to tell me I’ve been in a catatonic state for the last decade?”

     Chris Spender nodded. “Yes, Fox, exactly. You have been incapacitated for the last 10 years, and you’ve spent that time creating these elaborate illusions in your mind! Don’t you see?”

     Mulder sat in silence for several long moments. “That’s complete and total bullshit!” he finally exploded. He started to go on but the cancer man sighed and stood.

     “Enough, Fox. I’m obviously not getting through to you right now. Perhaps your Mother and brother will have a better time of it.”

     “I don’t have a brother!” Mulder screamed after him, angrily. He sat on the bed stewing. The minutes ticked by, and Mulder began to think the cancer man had left, knowing his elaborate ploy had not worked. He was beginning to work on getting out of the straight jacket when a nurse and two orderlies came in. “You!” he snarled when he saw the nurse. He began struggling to get away from her.

     The nurse surveyed him coolly. “I’m afraid that due to Mr. Spender’s severe delusions I am not one of his favorite people. Kindly change him over to the bed restraints, Alex.”

     The kid nodded quickly and muttered “Yes, Nurse Fowley.” He and the other orderly wrestled Mulder out of the straight jacket and back into the bed kicking and screaming.

     Nurse Fowley approached him, holding a syringe. “Now, Mr. Spender, your Father has informed us that you haven’t been taking his visit very well. This is just a little sedative, to spare your Mother and brother from seeing you in full hysterics.”

     Mulder looked into her eyes, breathing heavily from his struggles. “You know who I am, Diana. Don’t call me Spender.”

     She ignored him completely. “Just a little prick now, Mr. Spender…”

     Mulder lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, struggling to keep his wits about him as the sedative took hold. He was very nearly asleep when the door opened again. He turned his head with a good deal of effort to see the Cancer Man come in again, this time with Cassandra Spender and Jeffrey Spender. Jeffrey gave him a small smile and waved, but Cassandra let out a choked sounding sob and put her head against Chris Spender’s shoulder.

     “Oh, God, Chris, do they have to keep him tied down like that, like some kind of animal?”

     “It’s for his own good darling, and for our safety. It’s just a precaution, and it doesn’t hurt him.” Chris Spender paused. “You know he’s listed as having a history of violent outbursts. The hospital considers restrained visits mandatory.”

     “I’m not, violent.” Mulder managed sluggishly.

     Cassandra Spender turned to his voice and went to him, holding his cheeks in her hands. “No, sweetheart, of course you’re not. Those Doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. Mommy knows better than that.” She spoke in a voice most mothers reserved for consoling young toddlers. She smoothed his hair gently. “How are you feeling baby?”

     Mulder couldn’t articulate a reply. But he was thinking. This woman had to be a clone. Cassandra Spender had been killed by rebel aliens, years ago. For that matter, Alex Krycek had been killed several years ago as well. He stared at her in silence.

     Cassandra Spender’s eyes were full of tears. “Oh, Chris, what did they give to him? He can barely even talk!”

     Chris Spender put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s just a sedative, Cass. He was getting agitated because of his delusions. They have to keep his heart rate down when they can, it’s not good for it to constantly be overworked.”

     Cass Spender nodded a bit absently. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace edged handkerchief.

     Jeffrey stepped up to stand beside the bed. “Hey, Fox, how’re you feeling bro?” He leaned down and kissed Fox’s forehead, like any relative might do when visiting a sick person in the hospital.

     Mulder tried to fix his eyes on Jeffrey, but found it difficult, next to impossible. “Not, not my, brother.” He slurred.

     Cass looked at him, bewildered, and she and Jeffrey exchanged looks. She sat forward. “Fox, what do you mean, honey? Of course Jeff is your brother.”

     Jeff grinned. “Yeah, Fox, don’t you remember? You’re the one who turned Jeffrey Christopher into J.C. You were the only one whoever called me that, you and Saman-.” Jeffrey Spender cut off abruptly, looking embarrassed.

     The slip brought Mulder back a little. “Saman-Samantha?” he asked, his voice slightly stronger. “Samantha?”

     Cass and Chris Spender exchanged nervous looks. “Nevermind, Fox.” Chris Spender said abruptly. Cass and Jeff continued trying to talk to Mulder, but he just kept repeating Samantha’s name, getting more and more excited. Eventually they gave up.

     “Goodbye Fox. We’ll be back to visit you soon sweetheart.” Cass told him, leaning down and kissing his cheek. He didn’t really seem to notice. “Mommy loves you SO much, you know that, right?” Mulder’s eyes fixed on her for a few moments as a tear dropped from her face to his. “You’ll always be my smart little Foxy-boy.” She told him gently, kissed him again, and walked out sobbing.

     Mulder, staring at the ceiling, not noticing Jeffrey come near. She was really a wonderful actress. On second thought, they all really were.

     “Hey buddy, I’m gonna get going now.” He said, smiling gently at his brother. “I wanted to tell you though, Fox, that I got that job at the elementary school I’ve been going for, working with the Special Needs kids.” Jeff’s smile broadened. “It’s all I’ve really wanted, after coming here to visit you all these years.” Tears shown in Jeffrey’s eyes. “I have them call me JC, it seems easier for them than Jeff or Jeffrey. They’re the only ones who do now.”

Jeffrey suddenly fumbled for his pocket. “Oh! And I want to show you a picture.” He pulled out a picture of himself and a pretty blonde woman in fancy clothing. Mulder recognized her. “You remember Marita? I brought her here to meet you a few times.” Jeff’s smile became large and almost goofy. “I proposed to her, man! Can you believe it, your baby brother getting married?”

Mulder just looked at him, seemingly uncomprehending. He was having difficulty following the conversation.

     Jeff looked a little embarrassed. “I know there probably won’t be any way for you to be there Fox, but I want you to know that I’m still having you as my Best Man. Dad’s going to stand up there for you if you can’t be there, and we’ll get the whole thing videotaped, so you can watch it when we visit.”

Mulder just looked at him. His wits were beginning to return, but he didn’t judge this fake brother worthy of speaking to. Jeffrey was a little weasel, who had tried to sabotage the X-Files. He could never be trusted.

Jeff leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Bye Fox, I’ll come back and see you soon. Marita wants to come too, she was sorry she had to work today.” Jeffrey went out to his Mother in the hall, leaving Mulder and the Cancer Man alone again.

Chris Spender stood across the room, near the door, in silence. Mulder continued to struggle to speak, repeating his sister’s name over and over.

“Sa-Samanatha?” he croaked. “Samantha?”

     Suddenly the Cancer Man crossed the room quickly and leaned down to Mulder. He was crying, tears rolling down his face.

     “Samantha, Fox? Samantha? You still remember her, hm?”

     Mulder forced himself to nod. He could never forget Samantha, never.

     “Oh, you do? You remember what happened to Samantha than? You remember how your little sister died?”

     Mulder frowned. “Didn’t, die. Taken. Experiments. Aliens. Walk-ins. Didn’t, die.”

     Anger danced and smoldered behind the cancer man’s eyes. “Oh yes she did, Fox. Samantha died on November 27th, 1973. She was eight years old.” More tears rolled down Chris Spender’s face, and his voice shook with grief, enough to make Mulder’s stuttering attempts at speech stop. He stared at the man.

     “She was eight years old when she died. And she was beautiful. Long dark wavy hair. Blue eyes. She had the loveliest little personality. So full of life and spunk, a funny little girl but a little girl with a huge, compassionate heart.”

     Tears began to roll down Mulder’s face. That was Samantha alright. Personality and appearance. He could still envision her perfectly to this day.

     “Your Mother and I were going to dinner at the Mulder’s, just a few houses away.” Chris Spender continued. “We left you in charge. Jeffrey was only four, and he was in bed when we left. You and Samantha were both still awake, playing Stratego. There was a new John Wayne movie on the television that night, and Samantha had permission to stay up and watch it.”

     Mulder stared at the ceiling, reliving the worst night of his life as the cancer man spoke.

     “We left around 7:30. Jeffrey showed up at the Mulder’s door around 9. We knew something was wrong than, and the Mulders came back to the house with us. You were sitting in a corner in the den, just staring. You refused to speak, or even to acknowledge anyone’s presence.”

     Mulder turned his head to the cancer man. A certain horrified disbelief was dawning in his eyes.

     “From what Jeffrey could tell us, you and Samantha got into an argument about something. She stole something from you and ran away with it, and you chased her. She ran up stairs, Jeffrey came out to stand in the doorway, all the yelling woke him up, and he saw you grab Samantha, yank whatever she took from you away from her, and then shove her back away from you. Samantha lost her footing and fell down the stairs. She broke her neck in the fall. Your Mother found her, lying next to the stairs.”

     Mulder was shaking his head no, slowly and then gaining speed. “No. No! NO!” he screamed.

     Chris Spender leaned closer, into his face. “YES, Fox! Yes! Samantha never disappeared, there was nothing ever mysterious about her death. It was an accident, but you couldn’t take the guilt you felt, Fox! That’s what this entire thing has been about! You hiding from what happened to your little sister five days after Thanksgiving in 1973! This entire delusion is all a way to hide from it, to make everything OK in the end somehow!” Spittle flew from Chris Spender’s mouth. “You need to accept it Fox! It was an ACCIDENT! As soon as you can accept that, and accept your own guilty feelings, you’ll get better. You can come home than!”

     Chris looked into Mulder’s eyes. “Fox. Son. Please. We didn’t just lose your sister in 1973, we lost you too. You’ve been locked up in this place for almost 30 years now. Please Fox, just come back to us.”

     Mulder stared into the man’s eyes. They were so, honest. The words were so heartfelt. Could they all be such wonderful actors…? He considered if they were telling the truth. He had wasted so much of his life in that case, locked here. And it meant that, no matter how indirectly perhaps, or how non-intentionally, he had killed Samantha himself, the person who had meant more than anyone else to him, more than anything else in his real or possibly imagined life.

     Even if it was a lie, a delusion, it was better than waking up to that reality. He turned his head to stare at the white ceiling, and began to speak in a dull, toneless voice. “My name is Fox William Mulder. I am a Special Agent in the FBI. I work in the X-Files Department, investigating Unexplained Phenomena.”

     Chris Spender wore a defeated look. Sighing, he stood up. “Goodbye, son. I’ll see you next week. Like always.” Mulder did not stop speaking, did not acknowledge his words or presence. Chris Spender left the room with his head down, and walked down the hall with his wife and son.

     Inside the small room, Fox continued to speak in the same listless voice, reminding himself of the truth, defeating the cancer man’s plot, or re-establishing the complex delusion within his own mind.

     “My Father is Bill Mulder. My Mother is Teena Mulder. I have a sister. Her name is Samantha. I have a partner. Her name is Dana Scully. We have a son. His name is William. My name is Fox Mulder.”


End file.
